


last time

by mikkal



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (techincally), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Prompt Fill, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkal/pseuds/mikkal
Summary: “This is how everything went wrong last time,” Cisco says.“Is it?” Barry gasps.  “I thought,” he sucks in a breath, “I thought it went wrong when we let a guy kill himself to make up…make up for my mistakes.”“Oh,” Cisco says distantly. “That too.”





	last time

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill: original posted 9.10.18.
> 
> tumblr: mikkalia15
> 
> probably the shortest thing I've written/posted this year.

“This is how everything went wrong last time,” Cisco says. The brick wall is rough on his back, but it does an admirable job of keeping him upright. It’s surprisingly hard, what with how the world sways dangerously and the way his skin feels so clammy. Has he always been this pale? (hint: the answer’s no.)

           “Is it?” Barry gasps. He keeps a hand pressed against his side, just under his ribs. Without his gloves, the red seeping between his fingers is too bright, too ghastly. “I thought,” he sucks in a breath, “I thought it went wrong when we let a guy kill himself to make up…make up for my mistakes.”

           “Oh,” Cisco says distantly. “That too.”

           Eobard Thawne stands above them—figuratively, not literally. Well, literally for Barry from where he sits curled against a dumpster in this stupid alley. Figuratively, because even though it’s getting harder, Cisco is still standing, and the future-bastard-villain is not _that_ much taller than him.

           He stands above them, hands on his hips, cowl thrown back to show the stolen visage of Harrison Wells and a raised eyebrow. His expression is amused, bemused, everything in between.

           “What on Earth are you two talking about?” he asks.

           Barry breathes in another sucking breath. Blood stains the corner of his mouth. His glare is defiant. “Fuck you,” he breathes. It comes out just as red as his suit. Just as red as the blood between his fingers and dripping from Cisco’s nose and ears. His chin is dotted with it.

           “Maybe when you’re older,” Eobard replies with a wrinkle of his nose. He sighs, his hand starts to vibrate. A high whine fills the alleyway. “Well, maybe when this time’s you is older. You’re, what? Four, five years from home?”

           “Six,” Cisco answers because why not.

           “Thirty-one, then.” Eobard nods. “I can work with that. You, Cisco, have certainly lived longer than I predicted. And, Barry—.”

           “—and you…can’t kill me,” Barry wheezes.

           Eobard laughs. “What makes you think that, Flash? You think you’re untouchable just because you’ve lived this long?” In a blink he’s kneeling in front of Barry, fingers tilting his chin up. His gloves are dirtied red. “I can promise you,” he whispers, “that you’re not.”

           Barry bares his teeth at him in a self-satisfied snarl. “I know something…that you don’t.”

           “Oh? What’s this?”

           Cisco laughs half-hysteric. He slides down the brick wall, leaving a smear of dark red trailing behind. “Cockroaches,” he all but giggles into his palms, hands over his face.

           “Anchor,” Barry clarifies. He reaches up with a shaking hand, wraps his fingers around Eobard’s wrist. “I am the Speed Force. You are not.” Eobard stiffens, his eyes widen. He tries to pull away, but Barry finds the strength to keep him close. “Cisco is a Fixed Point. You are not.” Eobard’s face pales ghostly.

           There’s an echoing gunshot, like a boom of thunder, a crack of a firework.

           Eobard lurches forward, falling into Barry. Behind him, at the mouth of the alley stands Iris. Knees shaking, hair disheveled, blood on her knuckles. The gun in her hands is the steadiest thing about her. Thirty-three, and glaring at the back of Eobard Thawne’s head.

           “Did it work?” she asks, voice weak. She stumbles towards them, swaying.

           Cisco sighs. He lists to the left, eyes drifting haphazardly towards Barry and Eobard. The Flash wraps his arms around his archenemy’s shaking shoulders. He closes his eyes, tilts his head back. When he opens them, Eobard’s shoulders have gone still, his back heaves with desperate breathes, and Barry’s eyes spark with lightning.

Cisco presses a hand over his heart, feels a tingle of the Speed Force spark in his chest. Once upon a time, there was a different crack of a gun. A self-pulled trigger with blood staining a white shirt as a good man dies for stupid reasons.

It would’ve happened four minutes ago. Five. Six. It would’ve happened ten minutes ago now.

Iris collapses next to Cisco, pressing their shoulders together. In the silence, they watch Eobard die.

This one is dead. Eobard Thawne as Harrison Wells, limp in Barry’s arms, is dead. Every Eobard in every second after this singular moment dies without warning or notice. The shockwaves through time leaves Cisco gasping and shaking. Iris grabs his hand in hers, squeezing tight.

Lightning sparks off Barry’s shoulders, curls over his fingers, caresses his face. He feels it too. His eyes burn with power as the Speed Force chases through time after the Reverse Flash.

“Did it work?” Iris can barely ask again.

Cisco nods, a small jerk of his chin. “Y-Yeah,” he says, cracking.

Barry opens his arms, lets Eobard fall to the side. He’s gone into dust before he hits the ground. “We won,” he croaks.

Twenty minutes ago, a good man would’ve killed himself. A singularity would’ve opened in the middle of the city, killing countless others, and destroying infrastructure. Twenty minutes ago, six years ago, they thought they won despite their losses. Six years later, they finally won.

They sit in the alley, together. Cisco’s hand flops out, palm up and inviting. Barry falls over trying to reach it, face landing on Cisco’s shin. He curls their fingers together. Wind picks up, blows through the space. Lightning zips past the mouth, yellow and crackling. Barry shudders, Iris tries to soothe him, but all that come out is a mush of words.

“I love you,” Barry murmurs, eyes half-lidded.

Cisco’s head lolls, cheek on his shoulder. His neck too weak to keep him upright. “’m too,” he slurs.

Iris leans to do _something_ , only to lose control. She falls over Cisco’s lap, their hands trapped between their bodies. They’re too heavy to move. She presses her face into Barry’s shoulder in her own silent _I love you_.

Moment between moment, they slowly fade away.


End file.
